


The Toll on Miracles

by Raaj



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: AN OLDIE GETTING CROSSPOSTED, Gen, alternate Luxendarc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 00:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17694344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raaj/pseuds/Raaj
Summary: While Edea and Til rest, Agnès braves Ancheim and crowds of Crystalist believers alone.  Just as it starts to prove overwhelming, a young man draws her aside for a quiet lunch to recover.  He's helpful, a bit charming...but the strangest thing is that he seems to be from the village of Norende, same as Til.  Yet he won't meet with the boy, and Agnès cannot help but wonder why.





	The Toll on Miracles

Someone was trying to kill Airy and destroy the crystals, and words could not describe how furious, and afraid, Agnès felt whenever she thought of him. When had Anticrystalism become so extreme that someone would attempt to destroy a basic foundation of their world?  
  
He’d appeared as a friend at first–when she and Edea and Til were pressed back by Orthros’ dual assault of fire and ice, she’d thought they were done for, but then a fourth warrior appeared. Edea had later identified him as one of the few men among the Eternian valkyries, judging by his white armor, plain save for a blue gem on his face-covering helm and small spears that dangled from his tall boots to produce a fierce rattling when he jumped into the air with his full-sized lance. Agnès had also noticed these parts of his appearance, but she’d been more focused on the fact that he had first staved off a blast of fire that could have burned Til with a blue and red shield they soon realized was enchanted against both ice and flame, then tossed the shield to Til to let the young boy protect himself. With the boy protected, the mysterious new arrival had taken his lance in both hands and swiped at Orthros’ two heads, forcing the beast back. His entrance had singlehandedly turned the tide of the battle. That he could be anything other than a friend had not even occurred to Agnès until the moment after the battle, when they had all been catching their breaths.  
  
He’d caught his first, and turned on Airy. Had Edea not recognized him as a fellow Eternian and suspected his reason for being there, had she not been so quick to catch his weapon with her blade, the cryst-fairy might have been skewered. As it was, poor Airy was still shaken from the attempt on her life, and the attempt at desecrating the crystal that had followed when the stranger, finding Edea in his path, had merely changed the course of his violence without ever once uttering a word to explain himself. Edea had swiftly chased him and forced his retreat, but still, it had been an upsetting turn of events. The fairy had taken to resting in Agnès’ satchel for the time being. She wasn’t up to dealing with the large crowds that had gathered around the vestal since the return of the wind.  
  
Agnès was happy that people were so grateful, because there was a chance that their hearts would be opened to Crystalism again, and because stubborn as Til was about being able to keep up with her and Edea, he needed some rest, sorely; it took him longer to recover from their traveling. So Agnès had no trouble for staying in the city now, to connect with the people and to let Til take it easy for a little bit… but she was starting to wish she had a pouch of her own to hide in. She knew she needed to stand on her own two feet, keep showing people the path she believed in and lead by example, but–but what kind of leader became exhausted so easily just by talking to people? It was barely afternoon, and she had already spoken to dozens and dozens more people than she would have in a day at the temple. She was starting to feel a little dizzy, and truth be told dismayed with herself, when a new voice called above the clamor.  
  
“Please, let’s give her a moment. A-ahn–Lady Vestal.” A hand gently touched the back of her arm, and Agnès turned, startled, to look into the brown eyes of a young man her age. He was smiling, but it was a bit strained, and he looked tired. Perhaps he was shy like herself. “Have you been able to take lunch yet?”  
  
That might be the cause of some of her dizziness right there. It was only an hour past lunchtime, and she had forgotten it in the press of conversation and questions, but with that small reminder her stomach grumbled.  
  
His smile eased into something more genuine, even as she raised a hand to hide her reddening cheeks. “May I treat you?”  
  
“Please, you don’t need to–”  
  
“Please. I’d like to.”  
  
“…Thank you.” She really was grateful for the opportunity to regather herself, and followed him through the crowd. He never let her fall behind, quietly but firmly making excuses to everyone so that they cleared a path. She felt a bit embarrassed now that she had not done so for herself sooner. Yes, the people needed a light in these troubled times, but surely it was not so selfish to claim a moment of peace.  
  
When they got to a shaded café, truly pleasant now that there was a breeze blowing through, he pulled out a seat for her at a table. As he moved to the other side to seat himself, she took stock of him. She’d already realized he was not a native of Ancheim: he was tanned, but his coloring was still pale in comparison to most of the city’s population, and such tight-fitting, dark trousers would never be common attire in the desert. His billowy, cream-colored shirt was more reasonable. It was also a bit worn, and Agnès frowned. She hoped it was a matter of well-loved and well-worn, rather than a sign of poverty. She could not refuse his generosity now without insulting him in the process.  
  
But…there was something else about his manner of dress…  
  
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in genuine concern as he sat. “If–if you’re uncomfortable, Agnès–”  
  
“No, that’s not it,” she said, quickly shaking her head. Though she did wonder for a second at his sudden forwardness in addressing her. “My apologies. I was simply…” Her eyebrows furrowed for a second before she decided that the resemblance in the material and style was strong enough to chance the question. “…wondering about your apparel. It’s very similar to what one of my companions wears.” His head tucked down, one hand rising to pluck at his shirt. “Are you from Norende?”  
  
He let out a shaky breath. “…Originally…you could say? But…”  
  
Agnès closed her eyes, ashamed. Of course this would be a painful topic. He might not have been in the village when it collapsed, but he would still like as not have had friends and family there. “Forgive me for prying.” It was just–if he were someone Til might know, perhaps the boy could have a small piece of his childhood back. Even if he were simply a former neighbor, if he were willing to help in the reconstruction, it might be enough of a push to get the boy focused on that, rather than the much more dangerous mission he’d chosen: helping to reawaken all four crystals in order to banish the chasm that had swallowed up his home and family.  
  
Til had been an astonishingly great help, especially considering his age. His so young age, which had already left Agnès terrified on more than one occasion that she was going to be responsible for the child’s death. The battle with Orthros had been the latest near-miss. If she could just guide him to a safer path…  
  
A server came to take their orders, breaking the awkwardness that had befallen them. She looked up to inquire after a vegetarian dish, but she was already thinking on how to best explain herself, at least make it clear why she’d needed to ask.  
  
Once the man was gone again, she began: “The thing is, the king of Caldisla is supporting a rebuilding effort–”  
  
“I know,” her dining partner said. “I can’t join it. Not now. Not for any reason. I’m sorry.” His head was bowed, and from the position of his arms his hands were either gripping his knees or the chair itself. It was a position of shame and guilt, but his words were given in a tone that said he would not budge.  
  
Not for any reason, though? Not for a boy who had been orphaned at the tender age of nine?  
  
The young man spoke again before she could get herself any further worked up on Til’s behalf. “The companion you spoke of… It’s that boy who mouthed off to the king, right? I recognized his style of clothes, too. He’s young.” Too young, was the implication.  
  
“…Yes.” Agnès hoped ‘that boy who mouthed off to the king’ was not how the people of Ancheim would remember Til, but after how much he’d flustered King Eloch in public, she could not be surprised if it were. Til had not been able to resist rubbing the ruler’s previous comments about her in the man’s face once the wind returned. He was truly a brat. And a sweet one, at that, considering he’d been angry for the accusations heaped on her. “He was the sole survivor of the collapse. I’ve already tried to persuade him that traveling with me is dangerous.”  
  
“If Orthros didn’t convince him, nothing’s going to,” he muttered, and Agnès acknowledged that with a slight nod. Til was a good child, at least in her opinion, yet he was still more than a handful. Unbelievably stubborn, and a smart-aleck to boot, considering when she’d pointed out the stubbornness he’d said he was only that way to match  _her_. That boy…  
  
“He truly hates the chasm. It took everyone he knew… it even took his brother right before his eyes. He’s reckless and won’t listen to reason on this account; I did try to simply leave him behind in Caldisla, but it didn’t work.” Partly because a child less than half her age had a better sense of direction, but also because he had been so truly distraught over that attempt, crying at her and Airy as though he’d felt abandoned, that she didn’t have the heart to try it again. Even though it was for his own good. Agnès tried not to feel pathetic about either of those things, but it was hard sometimes. “My best hope is to convince him to put his efforts into the rebuilding effort… to convince him there is another way to reclaim his home. But I think he finds directing the construction too overwhelming on his own. He’s only nine years old.”  
  
There it was, in words now. Why it was so important that there was another from Norende. Why she wished he would take an interest in the rebuilding.  
  
“…Lady Agnès, I do understand,” he said. They’d returned to formalities, apparently; his expression was pained, and his eyes still couldn’t meet hers. “I’m sorry I can’t be of help.”  
  
She was disappointed, but she made herself shake her head. He must truly have something urgent keeping him from the reconstruction of his hometown when, at least judging by his attire, he still felt a connection to it. “Thank you for hearing me out. And you have already been of help. I did need to get away for a little bit.”  
  
“I probably shouldn’t have,” he murmured, but he was smiling now. A faint, wan smile, but a smile. “Intruded, I mean. But you looked so lost amongst all the people, I was worried. Shouldn’t your companions be with you?”  
  
“I am not alone,” she protested. “In Luxendarc’s time of need, a cryst-fairy has appeared. She has the knowledge and wisdom of generations of vestals. You may not see her now, but she accompanies me wherever I go.”  
  
Agnès was startled and dismayed when the man’s eyes cast down to the satchel she’d rested at her feet. While it was a surprisingly accurate guess, she always felt somewhat silly to be toting Airy around in there. It couldn’t reflect well on a cryst-fairy’s dignity. But when Airy was tired, she really did not care about such things. …At any rate, Agnès had been honest. She was never alone, not even when Til needed to rest and Edea needed to watch him. Nor would she leave Airy alone after that incident at the crystal.  
  
The young man from Norende did not comment on Airy’s unusual hiding place, and he glanced away soon enough that she wondered if perhaps he hadn’t made Airy out at all, if he’d had another reason for looking down. The silence was awkward for a moment or two; she felt as if the topic had been left unfinished, but he did not seem to want to talk about it anymore, perhaps because of the unexpected turn it had taken. She wondered if she should excuse herself, though then he might protest, and she really did want food now that it was so close to being in front of her. She was hungry.  
  
Then he sighed quietly, and the tension eased out of his body. He still didn’t say anything, but the silence actually became comfortable. He wasn’t expecting her to make conversation. He didn’t seem to expect her to do or say anything special because she was the vestal. Realizing that was a relief, and Agnès sat with him, watching people pass by on the quiet street as they waited for their meal.  
  
The soft clatter of her dish against the table broke the reverie, and she turned her head to see the young man paying for both their lunches before taking a bite out of his hearty sandwich. His eyebrows rose under his shaggy brown hair, and he gestured at her soup. “Mm… go ahead. The food here is good.”  
  
“Can I ask your name?” She really ought to have sooner, though she took up her spoon and began to gently stir the soup to waft away the heat. “I can’t thank you properly, not knowing your name.”  
  
He slowed in chewing his next bite; it seemed to take him a while longer than the first had, and she was almost concerned before he finally swallowed and answered. “Lowell. I’m Lowell Highwind.”  
  
She smiled. “Thank you for the meal, Lowell.” She took a bite of the soup, and her eyes widened. “Ah…! It’s delicious!”  
  
He laughed. This time his smile was bright and honestly pleased; the fatigue seemed to finally leave his face. She was reminded of Til’s cheerful laughter. Perhaps there was a relation? Or maybe it was just something about the people of Norende. “I knew you’d like it! This café is a favorite of mine in Ancheim. I’m pretty sure everything on the menu is good.”  
  
She nodded, taking more bites of her soup before continuing the conversation. “Just in Ancheim? Have you traveled to other places, too?”  
  
“Mm. In the past…year or so.” His expression grew distracted for a moment. “Florem, and Grandship, and Eisenberg as well.”  
  
He was… widely traveled, especially for the span of only a year. She wondered if he was involved in trade, perhaps, though Agnès wasn’t sure a merchant would dress as he did; he really did look more like a simple shepherd boy, somewhat misplaced in the desert city. “Could I trouble you to tell me a little about Florem and Eisenberg? Florem is my next destination, and I will very likely have to go to Eisenberg too.”  
  
“Mm! I’ll tell you a bit about Grandship, as well.”  
  
She nearly protested that she was not going to be stopping there (after all, there was no crystal), but then thought better of it. If he wanted to speak a little bit about other things, why not let him? He was being incredibly helpful.  
  
Somewhere between a half hour and an hour passed this way, with Lowell telling her what he knew about each location as they ate. At one point he got up and came back to the table having managed to procure paper and pencil, sketching out a simple map for her that he marked with notes. He warned her that Florem had changed from what she probably knew of it–in all honesty, she was a little incredulous when he started to describe just how far the changes had gone, surely the Matriarch would not allow it–and talked about the civil war in Eisenberg, and described the wildlife in each area. Somehow he knew already of the monsters that had become more widespread with the chasm’s opening as well, despite the stagnant sea making travel between regions impossible; he looked at her blankly when she expressed her surprise before reminding her calmly that the Eternian forces were still making travel, and any number of soldiers tended to carry some news along with their gossip. She’d frowned a bit at the reminder of the Duchy, and he’d swiftly moved on. She didn’t think she needed to know how to safely cross the Miasma Woods when they had the Eschalot, but she would have the advice to pass along to other travelers, and it was a welcome change of topic. All in all, it was comforting to have the reassurance that there were others wiling to help her even if they were not of the Crystalist faith, after that Anticrystalist’s terrifying act of blasphemy.  
  
Her thoughts began to break from his words a bit as she started to wonder if it would be appropriate to ask him to meet with Til. She would not ask any more of him, she would make sure to guard herself or Edea from trying to pressure him into anything else, but even just knowing of someone else from his hometown might be a little reassurance to the boy. And then she heard Til and Edea’s voices at the same time.  
  
“Agnèeees!”  
  
They had found her first. Til was apparently feeling very well-rested now as he ran up to the street, laughing, Edea following him closely at a brisk jog. She waved to the enthusiastic pair with a smile, then looked back down at Lowell. “Please, Lowell, would you mind–”  
  
Her words faltered as he pushed the map across the table at her, his last note left incomplete. “I’m sorry, Agnès,” he bit out, all the light gone from his face. He took off from his seat, leaving down the other end of the street so quickly that the vestal barely registered how he’d forgotten formality again; she was more concerned about how scared he’d looked.  
  
Had he…? He had. He had panicked at Til’s voice.  
  
Why?  
  
“You ate without us!” Edea accused as she and Til got to the table, but her tone was playful. What she was really concerned about was revealed as she looked down the street. “Agnès, that person wasn’t bothering you, was he?”  
  
She quickly shook her head. “No, he did nothing. He just–” She glanced down at Til, who was staring after the figure. He must have recognized the clothing as well, even at a distance. Or had he recognized Lowell himself? The boy seemed shocked and uncertain rather than hopeful though, and she decided to lie. “He was a Crystalist believer. He was simply helping me with intelligence about the other regions, but an urgent matter arose.”  
  
She was such a bad liar; even though her words held a grain of truth, she could already see the doubt creeping into Edea’s face, and knew she should tell her who the young man really was, as far as she knew. The important thing was that it seemed to put Til at ease. She reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair, completely breaking the rest of his focus as the boy indignantly squawked. Lowell had been kind to her, helpful, and he seemed like a good person for the most part. But if he was going to run away from a child, there was likely something troubling in his history with Norende. She would not burden Til by bringing it up.

**Author's Note:**

> finally crossposted after 10,000 years~
> 
> I always meant to crosspost this eventually, I just figured it would be with a ch. 2. And 3. And such. But at this point I've accepted the future chapters may not happen and I love this piece just as it is, and also I don't trust tumblr as a place to store anything anymore. So. If you're reading this, I hope you enjoyed it!


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